


Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas

by asocialconstruct



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bottom Thor, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Size Difference, Spanking, Top Steve Rogers, Top Thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:37:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8493715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asocialconstruct/pseuds/asocialconstruct
Summary: Steve and Thor hook up in Vegas in 1950.  Really just an excuse for marathon skinny!Steve/Thor pwp.  AU where Steve doesn't get the serum.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yasgorl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yasgorl/gifts).



> This makes some passing reference to [the 4F AU](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/4F) where Steve and Bucky don't grow up together and Steve never gets the serum, but I don't think you need to have read any of those fics to read this, it'll just give background on what's up with Steve/Bucky and Steve/Peggy in the background of this.

The Grand Canyon is—bigger than Steve expected. Or not bigger, but—makes him feel smaller, in a way that New York never has. There's more stars, more than there were in Europe even, and the sky feels farther away than it does in New York with the constant overhanging glow.

It feels good, in a way, like he’s come farther than he has, when all he’s done is walked down a steep path from his car to camp for the night. Steve lays another log on the fire, listening to the quiet. It’s cold with the sun gone down, but it’s another hour or so until it’s dark enough to see the Perseids. The sketchbook’s still balanced on his knee from earlier, pencil stuck in the page where he caught himself wearing the same rut deeper. It’s tempting to want to live in the past, but it doesn’t help anyone.  
  
He pages past the postcard he bought, unsure who he got it for. He bought one in Chicago and put Barnes’ address on it but didn’t know what to write on it; a sketch seemed too sentimental. Carter’s on assignment somewhere in California and Miss Martinelli wouldn’t know him from Adam. Barnes always talked about seeing the Grand Canyon after the war. But he meant with the guys.

Steve tucks the card into the back of his sketchbook; he’ll send it to Arnie when he goes back to town. The far rim of the canyon is just visible in the twilight, crisp in the cool distance as Steve pushes his glasses up his nose and shades in the canyon walls with the side of his pencil. The distance and the magnitude of it is what’s hard to capture, not the shapes, because it fades out into layered color even in the blue twilight, all the last traces of pink gone from the sky. He used a couple shots of his color film before dark and he’ll do a few more at sunrise, but what he should have done was bought oil pastels in Chicago or St. Louis.

Steve draws until the stars start coming out, his back popping when he finally straightens and stretches. The fire’s mostly out anyway; he kicks the coals to scatter them, leaving just the faint glow as he balls up his jacket and lays back on his sleeping bag to watch the meteors.

Steve’s dozing when it happens, eyes heavy, and he’s taken off his glasses so he doesn’t crush them in his sleep. Can’t see hardly anything that way, but better than not being able to drive in the morning.

The flash jolts him awake, a bright white light in the northern part of the sky, and he’s just scrambled up to pull on his glasses when it impacts, first light and then sound, echoing over the canyon.

A meteorite. Steve looks back up at the Perseids; his night vision is shot from the flash, glasses or no. He stares at the dark in the direction of it for a half hour or so, thinking he can smell ozone on the wind before he finally settles down to sleep.

* * *

It’s a couple hours later, then, that Steve sits bolt upright at some sound scratching at the edge of his awareness. It’s stupid, no movement for miles around, but Steve holds his breath and casts around in the dark for his glasses anyway.

Steve hears him before he sees him, the crunch of boots on gravel from the direction of the meteor strike, and small wonder because there’s not a sound besides wind over stone and scrub grass. Steve freezes, because it’s clear as day the stranger’s making right for him and there’s no cover to be had.

“Greetings, friend,” the stranger calls out, and Steve scrambles to his feet. The accent’s not American, but Steve can’t place it, disoriented as the shape of a broad man in slacks, shirt and tie resolves out of the darkness. “My vehicle has broken down and I saw your fire, may I impose upon your camp for the night?” the stranger says, stopping just near enough for Steve to see him in the dark. Big, but he’s got a beard and long hair tied back like a beatnik for all that he’s wearing a tie with his jacket slung over one shoulder.

The coals from Steve’s fire are hours cold. “Where you headed?” Steve says stupidly, like it matters when there’s not another soul for twenty miles around.

“Las Vegas. I seek my brother,” the strangers says. Foreign, but in a way that itches along the back of Steve’s neck.

“I’m headed there in the morning,” Steve finds himself saying. “I can give you a ride to town, if you want.”

“I would be very obliged, my friend. I am Thor, son of Odin, and I owe you a debt,” he says, taking a few steps towards Steve with his hand out, and he’s much bigger than Steve thought.

“Steve, uh, Steve Rogers,” Steve says, and meets him to shake his hand. Steve barely makes his shoulder and his hand envelopes Steve’s, warm and dry. Steve’s hand prickles oddly as they shake, like static over wool. “You don’t sound like you’re from around here,” Steve says when he steps back, and he sticks his hands in his pockets.

“Nor do you, my friend. I am from very far north of here.”

“Norway?” Steve says, looking up at him. He’d met some Norwegians in Europe, but none of them were this tall.

“And you?” Thor laughs.

“Brooklyn, uh, New York,” Steve says, stooping to fish his spare blanket out of his bag. “All I’ve got is a spare blanket, I didn’t bring much out with me.”

Thor takes it with a smile, stepping into Steve’s space before rolling it out arm’s length from Steve’s sleeping bag. “I have spent the night in far worse conditions, I would be obliged to any hospitality.”

“You serve in the war?” Steve says. The few Norwegian Independents he’d met were tough, hard bitten men, at war longer than any of the Americans. Thor doesn’t have that look, but the war’s been over for years.

“You are also a warrior?” Thor says, settling on the bedroll. He moves easily for such a big man, and Steve makes himself not stare as he settles back to his own sleeping bag.

“Sort of,” Steve says. “You ever been to Vegas before?”

* * *

If Thor noticed the subject change, he doesn’t say anything about it, not that night, not the next morning as Steve takes a couple of color shots and a couple more black and whites of the canyon, pushing his horn rimmed glasses up his nose every time he takes a photo. Thor’s even better looking in daylight than he was in the dark, the lines of his muscles clear straining the seams of his button down, and Steve doesn’t look at the line of his throat where he’s taken off his tie and unbuttoned his collar.

“All I’ve got’s instant,” Steve says as he builds up the fire for coffee. It’ll be a hot day again, but that’s a couple hours off as the sky starts to blush.

“I care not,” Thor says with an easy smile, so they settle in to watch the coffee pot like Steve did with the guys in Europe. It’s not the first time Steve’s had breakfast with anyone since Europe, but near enough, so he finds himself doodling instead of making conversation. His ears are pink despite the cold, but Thor doesn’t say anything about it if he notices.

The kettle starts steaming just as the sun peeks up over the far rim of the canyon, and Steve lays his sketchbook down. “You're very talented,” Thor says, glancing at Steve's open notebook as Steve gets up to check the coffee pot.

“Thanks,” Steve says, glancing at Thor sidelong. The kettle’s not hot yet; Steve’s just impatient, on edge for no reason with Thor walking out of the dark last night.

“May I?” Thor says. He’s got his hands on his knees when Steve sits back down, patient as anything. Doesn’t reach for it, doesn’t presume.

Steve hands it over, because there's no harm, and he's still prideful after all these years.

Thor leafs through it, pausing at the sketch of Carter and Miss Martinelli together, radiant with the diner window behind them and heads bent together. Steve's thinking of painting it when he gets back, moody blues and burnt oranges, but he'd have to ask them first. As good a reason as any to look up Carter when he gets to California. There’s a few others in there he’s done of her from memory, but they’re not as good, he can’t get the little quirk of her smile right when she’s not there.

Then there's the sketches of his drive; the diner in Pennsylvania, a farm stand in Iowa, a gas station in the Rockies. There’s some of them that are okay, a couple that are good, but for the most part they’re pablum, just things Steve saw on the road and drew instead of being morose or lonesome. Though there’s plenty of morose and lonesome pablum in there too.

Thor stops at—a sketch of Barnes. Steve did that one during a bout of morose and lonesome pablum, Barnes half turned to look over his shoulder in that old blue coat of his, and Thor glances up at Steve like he knows, just like that, just from the one sketch. Steve's heartbeat kicks up, because what's he going to do against a man Thor's size if he decides to make something of Steve's queerness. Even if it’s daylight, there’s no one for miles, and who would care anyway.

"May I kiss you?" Thor says, and Steve all but flinches back.

Thor just sits there politely, waiting for an answer. The sun’s behind him, haloing his blond hair.

"Excuse me?" Steve says finally. His ears ring like he really has been hit.

"I did not mean offense," Thor says. "Only, you are very talented, and you seem very lonely. I should like to kiss you, if you would allow it.”

“I—” Steve says. _Don’t do that anymore_ , is what he should say, but what comes out instead is, “Sure.”

Thor smiles radiantly and leans into him, closing the distance between them easily. The kiss, when it happens, is slow and nearly chaste, Thor’s mouth warm as he tips his head to meet Steve. Or, it’s slow and chaste until Steve takes a breath and leans into him, Thor pressing the invitation hotly until suddenly it’s a full on kiss. Thor’s beard is softer than it ought to be as he traces Steve’s bottom lip with his tongue.

Steve grabs him by the lapels and parts his lips, his skin hot as sunburn when Thor finally lays hands on him. Thor hauls Steve bodily into his lap like he weighs nothing, and—Christ, he’s thick, Steve thought he would be but there’s no mistaking it straddling him like this. Steve’s knees grind into the gravel as he rocks into Thor, but it’s hard to care with heavy hands on his ass for the first time in—years, nearly, it’s been ages.

Thor kisses like he means to make a day of it, his thick fingers dragging down Steve’s thighs as Steve twists his shirt collar and grinds into him. He’s hard, hard as Steve is, that much is clear, so it shouldn’t be a surprise when Thor puts big hands on Steve’s belt and pulls away.

“Yes?” he says against Steve’s mouth.

“Yeah,” Steve says. It’s been years since he’s done something this stupid; he doesn’t even look over his shoulder, back up the ridge where his car’s parked.

Thor doesn’t even bother pulling Steve’s belt off. He makes quick work of it and the fly of Steve’s jeans after it, and Steve sucks in a sharp breath as Thor wraps one big hand around his cock. The sun’s fully up now, Steve can feel it on his back, and they’re doing this in broad daylight. He leans his forehead on Thor’s shoulder, just one side of feverishly dizzy as he fumbles with Thor’s belt and fly.

He’s thick as Steve thought he would be, and big besides—Steve’s fingers don’t meet around the base of his cock. Steve’s vaseline is in the car, but his cock jolts in Thor’s hand at the thought of being fucked by him, straddling him like this and sinking down on him.

Thor smiles against his mouth like he hasn’t got a care in the world, and Steve digs fingers into one of his broad shoulders to keep from popping right there. Steve’s hand tightens around the head of Thor’s cock, his palm wet with precome, and that finally gets a reaction out of him, Thor almost growling against Steve’s mouth and squeezing his ass in one big hand.

That’s what finally does it for Steve, tipped over the edge as Thor moves to bite his neck, beard rubbing over his hot skin. Steve comes shuddering against Thor’s broad chest, all heat and pain and light with his forehead tipped against Thor’s shoulder.

He has just enough time to worry that this was a stupid, dangerous decision, mixed up with the embarrassment of coming so fast, before Thor puts a big hand on his chin to pull him up to kiss, still stroking Steve’s cock slowly. If he cares that Steve’s a shivering, distracted mess, he doesn’t show it, carding big fingers through Steve’s hair and sending chills over Steve’s scalp and thighs as Steve tries to finish him.

Thor comes with a soft noise against Steve’s mouth, absurdly gentle for such a big man, curling into Steve. And Christ, if Steve was hard at the thought of being fucked by him before—Thor kisses him through it, needy and just one side of desperate as he comes into Steve’s hand, hot and thick. Thor only pulls away after a long minute, leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder to exhale a long, soft breath.

Steve leans over to wipe his hand on the spare blanket, flushed with embarrassment and sex and sudden bashfulness. Thor catches him for another quick kiss as Steve stands to straighten himself out.

“That was satisfactory?” Thor says, buttoning himself up.

“Yeah,” Steve says, trying not to laugh at the surprise of it. “Yeah, that was pretty good.”

* * *

The drive to Vegas is—sure something.

They stop at a pay phone when Steve suggests they should maybe call a mechanic about Thor’s car, and Thor comes back to Steve’s Edsel saying that _it shall be handled_ , whatever that means. Steve doesn’t say anything about how expensive that tow job will be, and especially doesn’t say anything when Thor pays for a tank of gas and his billfold is full of crisp new fifty dollar bills. Probably a good exchange rate.

They make Vegas by lunch time, Thor rolling his sleeves up in the heat despite the open windows, asking Steve to explain the lyrics of whatever’s on the radio and telling Steve about the brave and talented women and men he’s known. _Known_ , Steve realizes around hour three, is what they just did in the Grand Canyon.

And what Thor intends to do once they get a hotel room, the look he gives Steve at the check in desk of the Stardust casino says. Steve’s pink to the tips of his ears as the lady at the desk hands them the keys to a room with two double beds, but Thor doesn’t seem to think anything of it.

The door’s barely closed before Thor lets Steve shove him up against the wall, Steve’s bag and Thor’s coat tossed on one of the beds as Steve goes after Thor’s buttons. He smells like clean sweat and sex in the dark room, and he’s got no undershirt on when Steve tugs his shirt off, just dense, solid muscle.

Thor picks him up in one arm, pulling Steve’s tshirt off him with his other hand as he walks them backwards to the bed and if Steve wasn’t hard as hell already, he sure is after that. Steve tries to wrap his legs around Thor’s waist, but he sets Steve down reverently, bending to kiss as he undoes the buttons of Steve’s jeans.

Steve bites him, twisting away to unzip Thor’s slacks and take his cock in hand, thick and hot as he was that morning. Thor makes a shocked noise when Steve licks his lips and sucks the tip of his cock, bringing one big hand up to twist in Steve’s hair. It feels good, sending chills chasing down Steve’s scalp and back and thighs as he circles his tongue over the tip of Thor’s cock and Steve relaxes to let Thor fuck his mouth.

But Thor doesn’t, breath hissing and beautifully still as Steve sucks the tip of his cock. He’s too big to take completely but that doesn’t keep Steve from stroking his own cock and thinking about it, Thor tasting like come and sweat as his fingers tighten in Steve’s hair.

Steve’s fever hot by the time Thor pulls away to step out of his slacks and shoes, Steve twisting out of his jeans as best he can before Thor tugs one leg of his jeans and pulls them off him in one motion. He looks even bigger at this angle, Steve leaning back on his elbows waiting to be covered by his weight, Thor’s cock red and standing at attention as he puts a knee on the bed and leans down to kiss up Steve’s chest.

Thor tugs him up the bed, still absurdly gentle when he puts an arm around Steve’s waist and flips them so Steve’s straddling him, the head of Thor’s thick cock smearing precome against his ass. Steve grinds back against him with Thor’s broad hands on his thighs, the thick muscle of him laid out for Steve to drag his nails down Thor’s chest.

“You are very beautiful,” Thor says, so earnest and sincere Steve feels bad for laughing.

“You don't gotta flatter me, we're already in bed,” Steve says, reaching over for the vaseline in his bag. He's anything but pretty, and maybe it would have bothered him years ago, to be flattered like a girl, but it’s nice, sort of, that Thor thinks he has to try even with Steve practically jumping on his dick.

Thor takes the vaseline out of Steve’s hand gently. “It is not flattery if it is true,” Thor says, cupping Steve's face to kiss.

Then he uncaps the vaseline, dips two fingers in, and brings a knee up to start slicking himself up. Steve twists around to stare, watching as Thor fucks himself with two big fingers.  
  
“Would you prefer another way?” Thor says, the picture of innocence even with two fingers in his ass.

“No,” Steve says quickly. Shuts his mouth before he catches flies. “No, this is good, I just thought you'd—this is good.”

Steve shuffles off him to kneel between Thor’s legs, one cold hand on the back of Thor’s knee as he watches Thor fuck his ass open slowly. He’s radiant laid out even with the curtains closed, deep even tan with no lines, like he goes swimming in the buff. Thor’s cock jerks as he watches Steve watching, leaking precome against the hard plane of his stomach.

Thor strokes his cock slowly when he’s done, waiting with his lips parted as Steve slicks himself up. It’s been ages since Steve fucked anyone, longer even than since he had breakfast with anyone, and the prospect of fucking the brick wall of a man is simultaneously thrilling and terrifying. Thor shudders and his hand tightens on his cock when Steve grips the back of his broad thigh and rubs the head of his cock against Thor’s slick ass; he’s dense muscle all the way through, and Steve hisses a breath as he finally starts to push in to the hot furnace of him.

Thor breathes with his head tipped back against the mattress. He watches Steve with hooded eyes as Steve sinks into him slowly, Thor pausing to spread precome across the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb. Steve can’t get a hand all the way around the back of his thigh, Thor’s huge legs spread and wanton as Steve fucks him, slow and steady. Thor doesn’t take eyes off him, though, skinny pigeon chest and little cock to match as Steve fucks him and tries not to think about how he himself looks between Thor’s massive legs, blushed all the way down his narrow bare chest. Thor’s blushed under the gold hair across his chest and belly, cheeks gone pink above his beard until Steve’s finally flush sunk into him and Thor closes his eyes to blow out a long breath.

He’s near hot as an artillery piece when Steve drags hands down his chest and thighs, making Thor curse and twist as Steve fucks him slowly. He’s tight and hot but relaxed, like he’s done this before, like he’s known men both ways, and Steve licks his lips wondering what Thor would look like with someone his own size. He thighs alone are bigger around than Steve, but he arches his back like he loves it when Steve starts fucking him in short, sharp little strokes.

Thor’s breath hitches and catches as he comes, like he’s as surprised by it as Steve is, his big hand stroking his even bigger cock as he comes across his belly and chest. Steve fucks him through it as best he can, Thor gone twisting and tight as Steve digs fingers into the back of his thighs to hold onto him. He really is like fucking a brick wall, solid and immovable as Steve shoves his knees up to chase his own.

Steve comes bowed over Thor’s belly, bent nearly double as he shudders through Thor’s aftershocks tightening him on Steve’s cock. He’s close enough to lick come off Thor’s belly so he does, Thor arching into it, gasping and beautiful as he finally goes boneless under Steve, chest heaving.

Steve pulls out and drapes himself across Thor’s chest, still lying between his spread knees. They’re both sticky and hot and reeking of sex and sweat, but Steve can’t bring himself to care enough to roll off to one side. And in any case, Thor smells good, bringing a hand up to comb through Steve’s sweat damp hair.

Steve floats there for a while, vaguely aware of his cheek itching where it’s stuck to Thor’s chest with sweat and maybe come, shivering with the cool air of the dim room and Thor’s fingertips tracing up and down his spine. It’s the most quiet Steve’s had in or out of his own head since before leaving New York, dozing in a sex-stinking Vegas casino motel.

It could be ten minutes later, it could be two hours later when Steve stirs, neck going stiff where he’s curled himself against Thor’s broad chest, where he should be embarrassed except Thor doesn’t seem to think anything of it, still tracing fingers over Steve’s back and shoulders. Steve’s about to prop himself to go get a drink of water when he comes awake enough to register Thor’s cock pulsing against his belly, hard as nails again.

Steve props himself up for real then, looking down to make sure, and yeah. “My apologies,” Thor says, with a smile that looks anything but apologetic.

“Can I?” Steve says, reaching for the vaseline.

“If you like,” Thor says with a lazy smile.

Steve might not come again, but damned if he’s not going to try with Thor’s cock standing back to attention even as Thor lays there insouciant while Steve slicks himself up. He’s as bad as Barnes, smiling with hooded, dark eyes as he watches the motion of Steve slicking himself up. Out of everything, Steve’s done this the most recent, but it’s still embarrassing doing it front of a stranger again after all this time, and Steve makes short work of it so he doesn’t have to think about the last time he opened himself up for someone he’d barely just met.

Thor’s—bigger than Steve expected, or, not bigger, but—makes Steve feel smaller than he has in years, hands splayed across Thor’s sticky hot chest as he works himself down on the thick tip of Thor’s cock. He feels spread wide already, especially when Thor reaches back to pull Steve’s ass open wider, lewd and vulgar for all that he arches up to kiss where Steve’s doing his best not to sweat and shake with the unfamiliar breadth of his cock slowly filling him up.

Steve breathes and relaxes into it, Thor kissing him lazily and kneading his ass in big hands, every inch of Steve’s skin throbbing and hot. It takes forever and a day to work himself down far enough to lean his head on Thor’s chest, Steve trying to resist the urge to just bounce on Thor’s dick or take him all at once because he wants to make it last with no pain.

But Steve’s as impatient as he’s ever been and Thor notices, holding him still with big hands so Thor can fuck up into him in shallow, teasing strokes. Steve’s limp cock twitches, getting interested again as Thor nips the side of his neck and rubs Steve’s neck and collarbone raw with his beard. He’s going to have beardburn from chin to thigh if he’s not careful, but it’s hard to care with Thor fucking him insistent and far too gentle all at once.

Steve sits up to catch his breath and take matters into his own hands, so to speak, his cock thickening as he sinks down further on Thor’s, rolling his hips to take him. Thor closes his eyes and tips his head back to groan, exposing the long line of his throat and making Steve come fully hard as he takes his cock in hand and grinds down when Thor is fully in him.

“You are also very talented in this,” Thor breathes, hands flexing on Steve’s thigh. Steve laughs, short and surprised. Been years since anyone ever told him he was good at his job.

Steve kisses him to stop him talking; too many sweet nothings and Steve might get even stupider about this than he already is. Thor arches up to meet him, wrapping one thick arm around Steve’s waist as they kiss. Steve’s thighs are shaky as he picks up the pace, his cock rubbing against Thor’s belly, smearing precome through the sticky mess from last time.

Steve shoves Thor back to the mattress to get a better angle to ride him and Thor goes easily, laughing breathlessly as Steve fucks him. He’s beautiful and unselfconscious as Steve wishes he could be, his blond hair spread over the pillow where it’s coming undone from his ponytail. If Steve’s going to be rubbed raw from beardburn, Thor’s lips are swollen and pink, parted as he watches Steve ride him, like Steve could shove him around and fuck him however he wanted. It’s a hell of a drug, not just fucking a man that big but pushing him around even when Steve’s the one getting fucked, all the dense muscle of him pliant and willing when Steve shoves him around.

It’s a hell of a drug too when Thor stands in one easy motion, one hand on Steve’s ass like he weighs nothing, Steve near blind with how close he is. He wraps legs around Thor’s waist, arching back as Thor uses Steve’s weight to bounce him, the hard muscle of Thor’s thighs hot and tight as he leans back to take Steve’s weight.

Steve comes almost surprised by it, curling in, clinging to Thor’s broad shoulders as Thor fucks him through it, hot and unstoppable and it’s nearly too much, Steve’s cock pressed against the hard planes of Thor’s belly as he shudders through it. Thor nips at his neck, little bites that will probably be dark marks in a couple hours, hard and relentless as Steve digs fingers into the thick muscle of his shoulders. Steve can feel him come in pulses, Thor’s hands tightening on his ass as he grinds Steve down on his cock to finish, crushing Steve to his chest as his cock thickens and pulses in Steve’s ass.

Thor lays him down on the bed too gentle again, and if Steve had any breath yet he might tell Thor he can throw Steve around a little bit, not be so absurdly gentle as he lays Steve out like he’s made of glass and puts a knee on the mattress and lean down to kiss again.

He props himself up on one elbow beside Steve without breaking the kiss, Steve already half dozing, sleepy drunk on sex. Except Thor doesn’t let him rest this time, keeping right on kissing him as Steve lies there boneless and shivering, gone liquid under Thor’s broad hands.

Thor shoulders Steve’s knees up, kissing the side of his knee and rubbing his blond beard along the length of Steve’s thigh. He circles the tip of one big finger around Steve’s ass, slick with leaking come. “Yes?” Thor says, the tip of his finger just barely pressing in.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, shuddery and sensitive. “Yeah, however you want.”

Thor fucks him with two thick fingers, just teasing at first as Steve tries to arch up to kiss, Thor either still hard or hard again where his slick cock rubs against Steve’s thigh. Steve curls up into him, spread open wide as Thor twists fingers in him, slick and easy between the vaseline and come. Thor curls his fingers up, stroking Steve from the inside, and his cock jumps despite himself, hot sparking pressure even though he’s sure he’s not going to get it up again. Thor doesn’t seem to mind, intent on just teasing Steve out of his mind.

It’s working, if that’s the goal, Steve panting against Thor’s mouth as he nips at Steve’s lip and then backs off to kiss down Steve’s chest, still fucking him with thick fingers. Thor pushes a third finger into him as he bends to bite a dark mark into the muscle of Steve’s chest, making Steve arch and twist even as wrung out and spent as he is. Thor nips bites across Steve’s ribs and sides, sucking a dark mark on his hip as Steve tries to fuck himself on Thor’s blunt fingers.

Thor’s mouth is hot and wicked, lips brushing over the bite marks he left before he filps Steve onto his belly with fingers still in his ass. Steve moans into the sheets as Thor pulls his hips up, spreading his legs for it as Thor spreads him wide, fingering him open slow enough to drive a saint mad. It’s too much, all of Steve’s attention narrowed down to Thor’s hands on his ass and Thor’s mouth hot as a brand on Steve’s throbbing skin where he bends to bite Steve’s skinny ass and kiss the dark mark he leaves.

Steve’s a shivering, oversensitive mess by the time Thor rubs the head of his cock against Steve’s slick ass again, one big hand on Steve’s shoulder to pull him up. Steve tries to push himself back onto Thor’s cock and gets a swat on the ass for his trouble, the light sting of it making him shudder and arch.

“Yes?” Thor says, rubbing the head of his cock against Steve’s ass with one hand and rubbing the stinging mark on Steve’s ass with the other.

“Fuck, god, yes, please,” Steve pants, trying to drop his head to the mattress again before Thor pulls him up by the shoulder and lands a cracking slap against his ass. Steve shudders under Thor’s hands, back gone taut as Thor slaps his ass in quick succession, hot and stinging as he keeps Steve in place with one heavy hand on his shoulder. By the time Thor pushes into him, just the huge, slick tip of his cock, Steve’s ass is throbbing and hot, the ridge of Thor’s cock stretching him as Thor teases him with just the tip and slaps Steve’s ass when he tries to push back.

And then he’s done teasing, one hand on Steve’s shoulder and one hand coming up to hold Steve’s chin and make him arch his back as Thor slides all the way into him in one easy motion, the full length of him pumping in and out of Steve relentlessly, thighs slapping against Steve’s stinging ass. He feels huge and heavy, balls pressed to the base of Steve’s still soft cock as he keeps Steve in place and fucks him in long, fast strokes.

Thor lands another stinging slap on Steve’s ass, letting him drop his head to the mattress so Steve can moan brokenly and hide his hot face in the sheets. He can feel himself tightening on Thor’s thick cock as he waits for the next slap, one of Thor’s hands on his hip the only thing keeping Steve’s shaking legs under him as Thor drives into him. Steve jumps as Thor slaps him again and again, overwhelmed as Thor suddenly shudders to a stop, pulling Steve back against him as he comes, pumping his cock slow enough Steve can feel the come leaking out of him already.

Steve collapses forward as soon as Thor lets him, huffing like he’s run a mile as Thor flops down next to him, sweaty and radiant. Thor gives him an apologetic look, running one hand down Steve’s back and ass, stinging where he cups Steve’s throbbing ass, running hands over where Steve’s probably gone bright pink with hand prints and red with bite marks. He can feel the bite mark on his chest throbbing dully, a good, clean pain that will probably darken over the next week or so.

“I hope I did not hurt you,” Thor says, fingers gentle as he slides the tip of one through the mess leaking out of Steve.

Steve laughs against the sheets, giddy drunk on the smell of sex and sweat. “No, it was good, really good,” he says, pushing back against Thor’s fingers. His skin tingles all over, joints loose.

Thor hums against Steve’s shoulder, mouthing the ridge of Steve’s joint as he tucks Steve against him. He’s too hot, radiating like sun off stone, but Steve’s too fucked out to care, dead asleep with Thor’s hand on his back.

* * *

“So I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around then?” Steve says, fiddling with his car keys, after they check out a few days later. It’s barely ten in the morning and Steve’s pink all over not just from the sun, because they fucked in the shower not an hour before, Thor bent at the waist and his hands braced against the tile, and Steve let himself get morose and stupid about the whole thing.

“Yes, you will like Woodstock, I think,” Thor says with a sort of sad smile. “I shall see you around, my friend.” He bends to kiss Steve on the cheek, right there in the parking lot in full sunshine. Steve can feel it on his cheek all the way to California, hot as sunburn.

He spends the drive thinking maybe he should visit Norway.

**Author's Note:**

> yasgorl made me do it.


End file.
